


Life Is Like a Box of Books

by rainbowstrlght



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-14
Updated: 2012-09-14
Packaged: 2017-11-14 05:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/511583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowstrlght/pseuds/rainbowstrlght
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Zach inherits a bookstore, Chris inherits a box of books, and both boys discover that Bill was universally a pervert.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life Is Like a Box of Books

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for my wild card square on [AU Bingo](http://au-bingo.livejournal.com/). Also, the Hemingway story is true, in a real-world sense--and, also true, that I would rather blow my brains out than end that way. To each their own.

 

 

 

Zach wasn’t sure what to think about the box of books in front of him.

On the one hand, they were in incredibly good shape. A mixture of paperbacks and hardcovers, without a hint of strong odor, that Zach could likely resell for the shop. New releases and classics that would probably do well on the used bookshelves, especially with the Berkeley students.

On the other hand? The man who had brought them in—as good-looking as he was, which had mildly distracted Zach—had informed him that their long-time patron, Bill Shatner, had unexpectedly passed away last week. Old age, boredom, perhaps some medical factors—the autopsy results hadn’t come back yet.

“He was reading _The Old Man and the Sea_ when he died,” Chris had said. That was his name, Chris Pine—dark blond with black-rimmed hipster glasses, wearing blue flannel, skinny jeans, and ridiculous blue Nikes.

Which was a depressing thought. Not Delicious Chris—especially from behind as he left the shop—but the damn Hemingway. Zach couldn’t imagine holding _The_ _Old Man and the Sea_ on his deathbed, unless he had a gun and could shoot himself midst-reading.

“I don’t know, Harold,” he said to the gray feline that rubbed against the box. “I’m not even sure I’d _want_ to be reading when I die.” He pulled out some Grisham and Koontz from the box, noting them on an inventory sheet. “I think I’d want to pass out squished in a man sandwich.”

Which probably said it all. Bill—who had been a BFF and sometimes _wink-wink-nudge-nudge_ “more” with Leonard Nimoy, the former owner of Enterprise Bookshop—knew that Zach generally didn’t do this scene. While Zach had always loved reading, he had not taken to the random inheritance of a bookstore easily. There had been a difference between finding Enterprise when he had first moved here—poor as fuck and with too many Hollywood dreams—and then mourning Leonard’s death with a new set of keys.

“I was really thinking of acting, but, you know—stuffing myself into a Goofy costume at Disneyland probably wasn’t the best career path, anyway.”

Bill had given him a sympathetic look over the moving boxes. “Or porn?”

Zach had to think about that one. “Yeah, probably not porn, either.”

“Shame,” Bill had only answered, creepily winking as he left the bookstore.

But actually, Bill had been really nice, and it made Zach sad to think that generation he knew was gone. Leonard had died last year, and it had been hard to cope without him; his only father figure—perhaps his only friend in LA. Zach had never known his grandparents, and Leonard and Bill had sort of adopted him—well, in a Gay Old Couple Passing the Torch sort-of-way.

Noah groaned with achy bones as he settled into a corner, and Zach had to agree.

“I think this calls for drinking,” Zach announced as he stored the box in a back room, then pointed at his animal companions. “Not you guys—that would probably kill you, and I’ve had enough death this week.”

Really, what was he going to do without Bill? Life was already impossible without Leonard, but now he had no _Bill_?

This called for some Rolling Rock and too many games of Skeeball.

***

Zach _technically_ wasn’t allowed to bring in the Rolling Rock to Cho’s arcade, but he had bribing techniques—like that yearbook photo he found randomly on Facebook, for instance.

“I have limes!” John said from behind the counter, with no bribery needed. “Let me go upstairs—you get started.”

The arcade wasn’t packed, so Zach was able to choose his Skeeball lane wisely. This actually required some thought—if he got too drunk, where would the ball swerve wildly? Would he hit a child? Would he knock off and break that signed poster by Harrison Ford on the wall? The latter had insurance, but the former had the wrath of the owner.

“Hey there.”

Zach turned around too quickly, almost dropping the booze. Which could’ve been catastrophic, except he was staring at a blue flannel-clad hipster, and _damn_ was Chris even more attractive at night without the glasses.

“Oh—hey!” Zach said awkwardly, then lifted up the case of green bottles. “Um, I’m gonna have a party?”

Chris narrowed his eyes at the case, then glanced up skeptically. “Here?”

Zach shrugged. “Skeeball is awesome, and I was actually rather fond of Bill.”

Chris nodded slowly and knowingly, then turned to the Skeeball lanes. “Well, I was going to DDR—“

“ _You were not_.” Although Zach sort of hoped that he was.

Chris laughed. “Nah, you’re right, I was actually going for the Star Wars pinball.” He pulled out some tokens from his pocket. “But the booze and company makes this a sweeter deal.”

“In that order.” Zach handed him a bottle as he set down the pack, then thumbed tokens into a game slot. “So, how did you know Bill, anyway?”

The skeeballs made a familiar wooden _chock_ as they rolled into position, and Zach hefted one into his palm, relishing the smooth and worn texture.

Chris was already rolling one of the balls—and missing widely. “He taught my theater class at Berkeley. Which is where we sort of… _bonded_.”

That offered some tantalizing possibilities—or not, as Zach never actually wanted to imagine Bill naked, _eww_. “Did you bond over literature, or did he threaten to take you to—“

“Literature. And oh god, how often he hit on me—“

“Join the club,” Zach finished with a smirk, then threw up his hands for managing to hit 100. “ _Yes_.”

Chris took a long sip from his bottle, then entered in more coins for another game. “You’re saying I’m not special?”

Zach gave him a side-long glance, already feeling a buzz. “I’m saying that being hit on by Bill was a _special_ experience, yes.”

“Oh good, I’m glad I have a cup of wedges.” John passed the plastic cup around, then shook hands with Chris. “You tell anyone this is happening, I’ll kill you.”

“He means it,” Zach said casually, squeezing the lime over the narrow neck of the bottle. “Leonard used to come here, and then he was found stone-cold in the billiard room. Coincidence, or Ninja Cho? Up to you.”

It took Zach a moment to realize that Chris had paused, bottle half-way to his mouth, staring in shock.

It hadn’t even been that great of a joke, and Zach frowned in apology. “Sorry, too soon?”

“No, just…” Chris shook his head. “Nevermind. Are we going to compete during Skeeball, or do you guys not like competition?”

Zach had the mouth of the bottle pressed to his lips in thought—what was that about?  That Zach knew Leonard? That made no sense—but John interrupted with a menacing _oh ho ho!_

“Bring it _on_ , Pretty Boy,” John taunted, putting in more tokens. “You and me, head-to-head. Patsy over here doesn’t really pose a threat.”

“Them be fightin’ words,” Zach answered, getting into prime Skeeball position—which apparently was the bow-legged leprechaun position; perhaps he was knackered already. “Tell me when you’re ready for me to kick your ass.”

“This sounds really intense,” Chris murmured, but participated anyhow. Soon they were all too drunk to keep score anyway, so—what was that phrase? _All’s well that ends well._

***

Zach woke up at nine the next morning, with a pounding headache behind his eyes and a warm body next to him.

His hands felt the bed, felt the furry leg— _ah,_ it was Noah. And thank goodness, because Chris in his bed would’ve been nice, but then he would not have remembered any of it, and that would’ve been tragic.

“ _Ugh_ , you’re snoring too loud,” Zach said as he poked Noah’s face, uncaring that Noah probably had to breathe to survive. “Get up, I need to fall to the floor and crawl to the bathroom.”

Noah did nothing of the sort, and Zach stumbled his way over the dog—and the cat cuddled next to the dog—and made his way to the door, near where Chris Pine apparently _was_ sleeping.

Zach blinked, trying to remember why Chris would possibly be sleeping in his bathtub, then gave up. He put his head in his hands for a moment, not wanting to yell, but also not wanting to move.

“Chris?” he said softly, but of course that wasn’t going to work. He eventually shuffled over and gave Chris’ disappointedly-clothed body a poke. “ _Chris_.”

At that Chris startled awake, eyes squinting as he peered up at Zach. “ _Fuck_. How did I…?”

“Unsolved mystery,” Zach mumbled, going over to a bathroom drawer to pull out the aspirin. He poured out a few, popped them into his mouth, then cupped his hand under the sink for water. “You’re welcome to stay for breakfast.” He went into another drawer and pulled out a spare toothbrush, setting it on the counter. “Kitchen’s just outside the room. I’ll meet you there.”

Although Zach had wanted to shower something fierce, he closed the door behind him, because that was likely the gentlemanly thing to do.

***

“I knew Leonard because of Bill. I used to get all my required reading here—you know, for school. But it was so much more than that. More like my home away from home, since I felt so displaced.” Chris started once he had coffee in his system. “But I’ve been away in New York and I stupidly lost touch. Had no idea Leonard passed on until… oh, a week ago, when I had a lawyer contact me about Bill’s will.”

“That sucks,” Zach said around his own coffee mug, dipping his toast into the yolk of his eggs.

“I just—“ Chris looked desperately around at the orange-colored walls, as if Zach’s small kitchen held Life’s answers. “How did I forget about everything here? It was the only place I ever felt welcome.”

Zach shrugged. “College wasn’t the escape you thought it would be?”

“I hate California,” Chris confessed as he toyed with his mug handle, lost in thought. “But I remember reading so much here—like the beginning of _Slaughterhouse-Five_ as it rained outside, while Leonard complained to Bill.”

Zach nodded. “That was their form of affection, the bickering.”

“Tell me about it.” Chris looked up suddenly, eyeing him curiously. “How come we never bumped into each other? You know, since we both hung out here a lot.”

That was actually a pretty good question, since Zach’s acting days and Chris’ college days apparently matched up. Zach thought about it with another sip of his coffee, then hedged with, “I never came on weekends?”

Chris had a dawning expression, and Zach said the thought out loud.

“You only _came_ on weekends.”

“School took up my entire week. Everyone else partied while I hung out at used bookstores, I guess.”

Zach pointed a finger in _there ya go_. “I was probably out partying with them. Or serving them at Denny’s.”

“Seriously, we _never_ ran into each other?” Chris shook his head. “Life is funny sometimes. I felt like I intruded on so much of Bill and Leonard’s life—but I guess not enough.”

“I sort of feel like Leonard cheated on us,” Zach mumbled before he thought better of it. “Two surrogate sons, and we were never told about the other.”

“Let’s be honest, you’re just mad Bill never told you about _me_.”

“Yeah, maybe I did think I was special,” Zach deadpanned as he brought the mug to his mouth, glad to make Chris finally laugh at _something_.

***

Life continued to be funny as Chris came by the bookstore more often, despite running out of books to hand over.

“Do you like movies?” Chris asked while leaning against the glass counter, trying to act suave while really jostling the inside contents.

“Am I a human being that lives in the United States?” Zach answered, because really—what person _didn’t_ like going to the movies? Unless it was between movies or buying bread, which in that case Zach would probably still pick movies.

“ _Awesome_ ,” Chris said enthusiastically, then seemed to stall. He cupped his hands together, his eyes darting around the room—as if the bookstore walls _were_ just hiding those Life secrets somewhere, seriously.

Zach sighed. They had been doing this for over a month now, and Zach was pretty sure that what they both inevitably wanted was to be naked under some bed sheets; maybe without the expense that dinner and movies involved.

Zach picked at imaginary dirt on the glass countertop. “You know, if you want to ask me out, you should just channel Bill for two seconds.”

Chris raised brows at him. “You want me to _leer_ at you?”

Zach pursed his lips and nonchalantly shrugged, hoping that Chris would take it for a _yes yes yes_.

Which apparently he did, as Chris leaned further across the counter, giving him bedroom eyes.  
  
“Hey, _gorgeous_. Let’s have dinner and a movie Wednesday night. ”

Zach wondered if channeling Leonard in this scenario would even be appropriate, if not horribly squicky, but he didn’t want to seem too desperate. “Hmm, that was all right, but I didn’t really hear a question in there, Mr. Pine.”

Oh, did those blue eyes _smolder_ —Chris was good at this. So good, that Zach found himself leaning onto the counter as well, meeting him halfway with their faces and elbows entirely too close together.

Chris licked his lips. “Tell you what. You give me the pleasure of your company, and I’ll give you the pleasure of a _lifetime_.”

At that Zach cracked up, smirking into his hand. “Oh my _god_. Did Bill just possess you, or what?”

But Chris wasn’t quitting the act, his fingertips finding Zach’s chin and lifting it up—lifting it beckoningly towards him, eyes on Zach’s mouth. “I didn’t hear an answer in there, Mr. Quinto.”

They weren’t acting like themselves, but maybe that’s how they needed to have their first kiss—soft, chaste, almost like a shallow breath.

“Yeah, _sure_ —whenever,” Zach found himself murmuring, Chris’ lips still deliciously hovering above his. He probably would’ve agreed to selling his kidneys at that point, as it was thoroughly mesmerizing.

But at that Chris finally cracked too, sighing in relief. “Thank _God_. I didn’t want you sleeping with Bill, too.”

Zach chuckled. “Well, it _is_ what he really wanted…”

“Eww, _ewww_!” Chris said as he drew back from the counter, but he was laughing. “No more bringing up Bill on our dates, deal?”

Zach pretended to think about that, but only for a moment. “ _Deal_.” And his fingers tugged the blue flannel shirt towards him, looking forward to forgetting his own name—and definitely Bill’s—at least for a little while.


End file.
